


Funny Business

by kurage_hime



Category: Take on Me - A-ha (Music Video)
Genre: Gen, Magical Realism, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-29
Updated: 2018-04-29
Packaged: 2019-04-25 05:03:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14371485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kurage_hime/pseuds/kurage_hime
Summary: Comics always need readers, after all.This comic, especially. It can only ever come to life when it is read and enjoyed.





	Funny Business

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Missy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/gifts).



When I was a boy, they called them the funny papers. “The Funnies,” for short.

Yeah, the word “comics” seems to be more popular these days, but as best I can tell it has much the same double meaning: art that is meant to be humorous. I’ve been told that even the Japanese word “manga” – which I otherwise might have taken to be some manner of exotic fruit – translates roughly into something like “whimsical pictures” or “irresponsible pictures.”

Same difference, as my young editor would say.

Well. She’d also say that what I’m doing is “sequential art,” not comics, but I guess I’m an old fogey because I don’t stand for such nonsense, not really. “Sequential art”? That’s a word for people with their heads so far up their own rear ends they’ve forgotten what the light of the sun looks like, you know what I mean?

So, please. Call them comics or comic books in your story. For me. Give me my creator’s prerogative.

No, no, I wasn’t always a comics creator. They didn’t tell you about that? Ah, I see. Well, I don’t suppose I blame them—

Hmm? Yeah, you have good instincts. I guess that’s why you became a journalist. Oh, is that right?

Sure, I’m happy to tell you all about it. It’s not like the accident was ever a secret or anything. I was on the front page of every newspaper at one point, and that’s the only time in my life _that’s_ ever happened. The comics have always been kept well away from the real news.

I was eighteen, and I was young and stupid, although of course I sure did think I was God’s gift to motorcycle racing. I’d just taken home a trophy at the Isle of Man TT, and the year before I’d placed in the top twenty at North West 200.

I met Bonnie a couple months after Isle of Man. She was Joey Carbone’s daughter – you ever heard of him? That’s right – the mafia capo. Well, he was big into racing, and he was building a closed circuit track out in Fairlawn. Wanted my help planning it and testing it out. Looking back, I suppose it was some sort of money laundering scheme, but I was too naïve to realize that at the time.

As for Bonnie, well, she loved the thrill of the speed, and we never gave much thought to things like safety harnesses back in those days. I probably should have told her no, but when you’re eighteen and a pretty girl wants to wrap her arms around your waist and press herself against your back?

Right.

Nah, I wasn’t gonna protest. I let her ride with me on the test runs…and okay, okay, I probably rode faster than I should have. I wanted to impress her.

It was bad luck, though, pure and simple. I know, I know, it was debated endlessly in the press. But I know what I’m about when it comes to motorcycles. We weren’t actually going that fast when it happened. Didn’t matter. Didn’t change the outcome any.

Somehow, I walked away without a scratch.

Bonnie died near-instantaneously at the point of impact.

Joey Carbone had two of his goons on the inside break my kneecaps with steel wrenches while I was still awaiting trial.

I got ten years for manslaughter and reckless endangerment. Out on parole for good behavior after six, but they had to wheel me out of the prison…and not on a motorcycle either, if you get my meaning.

I wasn’t ever going to race again. Hell, I wasn’t ever going to _walk_ again, and I had no real life skills. I’d dropped out of high school for racing, for christssakes. And it’s not like it is now: Back in the bad old days, a cripple in search of a decent-paying job might as well be in search of a new pair of functioning legs. Ain’t gonna happen, baby, ain’t gonna happen.

I started drawing because paper and pencils were cheap – I couldn’t even afford a television! Can you believe it?! And I had nothing better to do with all the time on my hands.

The story just kind of…grew. It was about me, the best parts of me. My happiness, my accomplishments, my dreams, my hopes. My love. It was…everything. Everything.

Nope, not unless you count art classes in elementary school. I had to teach myself. Well, yes. But remember, I had lots of time on my hands.

You’re right, though: It wasn’t easy. I toiled; I got frustrated; I burned all of my pages; and I started all over again. For years and years and years. Over and over and over. I poured it all into the drawings on the page.

There was a story in my heart.

The first syndication deal didn’t happen until I was fifty-one years old, but I haven’t been unemployed for a single day since then.

And now, here we are. Can you believe it? Sixty-five years practically to the day that I crashed that motorcycle and took my poor, poor Bonnie’s life away from her…

I do think about her sometimes, I do. A lot, actually. No, no, I’ve never been married. Yeah, maybe the boy in my comics is different – he hasn’t discovered the love of his life yet. But as for me, I guess I’m never gonna be over her. Sometimes there is only ever one for you, as they say.

Are you married?

Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.

My goodness, I completely lost track of the time. You must need to get back to the office and write up your story!

Here, take this: It’s a galley proof of the chapter slated to come out next week.

No, no, no, please – be my guest! Take it anyway! So you have a copy already? Two copies are better than one. Why don’t you give this one to the first person you meet on the street? I don’t get out very much, surely you understand, otherwise I’d do it myself. Comics always need readers, after all.

This comic, especially. It can only ever come to life when it is read and enjoyed.

Comics are a funny, funny business, you know that?

Okay, no problem. You too, and take care of yourself. Please don’t hesitate to let me know if you have any further questions.


End file.
